Undefeated
by Taliya
Summary: When, after eight years he has finally accomplished everything he had worked for and a part of who he was is no longer a necessity, help arrives from an unexpected source when the Poker Face finally shatters. Pre-platonic Kaito-Shinichi, MK-centric.
1. I: Deterioration

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

* * *

Undefeated

By Taliya

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I: Deterioration

* * *

He held the Midnight Tear up to the light of the full moon and sighed quietly when there was a distinct lack of crimson in its depths. The drop-shaped blue diamond winked tauntingly, a delicate but sturdy platinum chain wrapped about his fingers. He tossed the necklace into the air and caught it deftly with a white-gloved hand before secreting it in a pocket on his person. _Eight years. Another bauble to return to its owner,_ he thought, _and another failure for me._ His shoulders slumped ever so slightly and his top-hatted head tipped a hair forwards as the ever-present prankster's grin slid from his lips. Eyes gazed out beyond the edge of the hotel roof in melancholy thought as a gentle breeze tugged gently at his cloak.

"You look a little weary, KID-san." The voice drifted to him from behind, muted in the lukewarm September night air.

His trademark puckish smirk snapped instantly back into place as he snickered lowly. "Perhaps," he replied, acknowledging the other's keen observational skills. "Or maybe," he suggested in a conspiratorial tone, "I'm just getting old." KID twisted around to bare the eye not hidden behind his monocle and winked impishly, and the other could not help but chuckle. Turning to fully face his audience of one he said, "Fancy meeting you here, Meitantei," as he swept his cape out in an overly dramatic bow.

The detective smirked in return. "Normally there are other matters that command my time and attention, but as there was a case not too far from here that I'd solved not all that long ago, I figured, 'Why not?'" He tilted his head as he watched the thief, hands in his pockets and one foot resting easily on a grass-stained soccer ball.

"Why not indeed?" KID pondered aloud. Their relatively peaceful conversation was shattered by the sound of pounding feet and a muffled roar of, "I'LL GET YOU THIS TIME, KAITOU KID!" from somewhere in the stairwell that led to the rooftop. The thief snorted softly and said, "I suppose that's my cue to exit, stage left." He flicked his cape theatrically, tipping his hat at the detective. "Well then…"

"Not if I catch you first," the detective retorted half in jest and half in all seriousness. The thief was too far away to use his dart watch, so he unwound himself, leg swinging backwards as he aimed the football at the thief. The ball shot from his kick like a bullet out of a gun, his aim just as true. And yet he missed, for KID had ducked at the last second, using the movement as the impetus to spring off the roof into a twenty-story freefall. The door to the stairwell burst open as policemen from the Kid Task Force piled on each other. Inspector Ginzo Nakamori, at the head of the team, barely caught a glimpse of KID's long white cape disappearing over the edge of the building before he was forced under the pile of officers, his howl of outrage muffled under the bodies.

The detective, upon seeing that he had missed his target, opted for another method. Unloading a soccer ball from his belt he kicked it after the thief, who simply laughed and looped lazily over it with the glider. _Damn it,_ he thought, scowling at the retreating KID even though a grin tugged a corner of his frown upwards. Glancing at the Task Force, he shook his head at their antics before returning his gaze to the Tokyo skyline and the white glider rapidly disappearing from sight. A frown wrinkled his brow as his gaze turned introspective. He had not been lying when he said the thief looked weary. There was the subtlest bend to his frame, as though a weight hung about his neck and shoulders that someone less observant than he would have failed to catch.

The frown deepened as he rubbed his chin. _You've avenged the death of your father with the downfall of the Black Organization, so what are you still looking for?_ He raised his eyes to the full moon, as though the celestial orb contained the answers he sought. _Another night then, Kaitou KID._

* * *

"Kaito! Kaito!"

Blearily he pried his eyelids open, groaning as he groped for his tablet. 07:42, it announced, and he moaned loudly as his neighbor called for him once more.

"Kaito!" she yelled from her balcony, annoyance coloring her voice. "Bakaito, get up!"

He rolled off the bed to his feet, shuffling to his own balcony as he hid a yawn behind a hand. "Ahoko!" he whined back, voice thick with sleep. "It's Sunday! Sunday is sleep-in day!"

His childhood friend huffed. "Breakfast is made if you want some. Though why I even bother…" She grumbled the last part to herself as she slid the glass sliding door shut behind her, cutting off her rant. Kaito grinned at his friend and returned to his room. At last night's heist he had encountered quite a few snags and had nearly been outwitted by his archrival. He had been forced to flee, but he was still pleased with how the night went. Despite his earlier-than-expected departure, he had thoroughly enjoyed the adrenaline rush and the challenging game of cat and mouse. There had definitely been moments of panic, but he would not have traded the experience for anything—the battle of wits in order to keep barely one step ahead had thrilled him like little else as of late. He only hoped that the detective would return to his next heist, and yet…

Time had tamed his civilian persona. While he was still cheerful and happy-go-lucky, he no longer pulled as many pranks as he once did, nor did he host impromptu magic shows for passersby on the streets. Magic now was more a means to an end, and he was more than a little bitter at the realization that his passion had been twisted by his self-imposed obligation into something he no longer enjoyed nearly as much as he used to. Although the Black Organization collapsed and its members, including Snake, had all been caught, tried, and sentenced over five years ago, his own drive to ensure his father had not died in vain, his need for the absolute certainty that Pandora either never existed or was destroyed by his own hands, kept him from doffing the iconic top hat and cape forever.

Truth be told, Kuroba Kaito was tiring of wearing the mantle of Kaitou KID. His life, ever since he had first donned the white ensemble in high school, had come to a metaphorical standstill. Sure, he had gone to college and graduated top of his class at Touto University, earning his dual Bachelor of Engineering degrees in Applied Physics and Information, and Communication Engineering. He even worked fulltime at an international security firm as one of their best hardware and software developers, building, implementing, and testing the most cutting-edge systems for banks, museums, and the like around the world. It was the ideal job for him since he frequently traveled to the various sites for testing and implementation, and it made his work as Kaitou KID just that much easier. But nowadays he felt that was all he ever did. His life revolved around his work and his heists, and his personal relationships had fallen to the wayside. He had a large circle of acquaintances, but there was no one he trusted enough to consider a friend—not the way he used to view Aoko. She was still the closest friend he had, though all things considered that really was not saying much.

Nakamori Aoko—now Hakuba Aoko—had pursued a Bachelor of Laws in Public Law at Beika University in order to become a forensic scientist. She had married Hakuba Saguru two years ago, much to Kaito's immense dismay. The couple had moved to an apartment in the Haido City District and worked for Division One of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police under the guidance of Senior Superintendent Megure Juuzou and Inspector Satou Miwako. Kaito had elected to remain in his home in Ekoda as his mother Chikage still preferred to spend her time abroad, and his office was a thirty-minute commute on foot. It was convenient, and also allowed him to plan his heists in peace, considering it was the base of all of KID's operations.

Morning ablutions done, he changed into slacks and a thin sweater and fed and watered his doves before wandering next door to the Nakamori household. He let himself in with a quiet, "Pardon my intrusion." Entering the kitchen, he found Aoko frying eggs. Toast and coffee were already set on the table. Inspector Nakamori had already left for work, leaving the two young adults to their own devices. The two of them were now twenty-four years of age and Aoko was visiting home for the weekend, Saguru having opted to stay at the apartment so as not to upset his wife when he inevitably argued with Kaito over Kaitou KID's identity.

Kaito blinked over the steam rising from his cup of coffee when a plate of eggs was set on the table, Aoko taking her place opposite him. She grinned brightly at him, and he smiled back, noting how abnormally happy she seemed. "I gratefully receive," they both chimed before filling their plates with eggs and toast.

"So?" she started, fairly vibrating with barely restrained excitement. "How's work been? We haven't seen each other in months!"

"Has it been that long?" he asked, scratching his cheek in thought as he set his cup down. "I guess it has, huh?" He nabbed a slice of toast and took a bite. "Well…" he eyed her again, knowing that she had something important to tell him. "I'll get back to that in a moment. Now spill."

She needed no prodding; there was a sparkle in her eye that brightened at the directive. "Oh, Kaito, Aoko's so excited! I'm—Saguru—we're going to have a baby!"

It took a few seconds for the words to process in his brain, but when it did, he registered the idea with mixed feelings—undeniable elation and excitement for her, and a sense of something in his chest curling up and shriveling within himself. Deciding to parse out his emotions later, he allowed a genuine smile to curve his lips as he stepped around to table to wrap his best friend in a hug. "Congratulations, Aoko," he murmured into her hair, sincerely happy for her. He pressed a chaste kiss into her hair and pulled back, watching her eyes fill with tears of joy. "How far are you along? When's the due date?"

"I'm two months along. The expected due date is April first." She wiped her eyes and gazed down at her still flat belly, sliding one hand cautiously on it. "Some days Aoko still can't believe it," she whispered.

"So it's too early to tell if you'll have a boy or girl." Kaito stuffed his hands in his pockets. "April first, huh?" He grinned. "A regular little prankster then!" he exclaimed with a laugh and ducked the playful swipe to the head from Aoko. "I shall have to train him or her well!"

"Kaito!" she admonished in amused exasperation, "you'll do no such thing!" She sat back down at her place at the table and reached for an egg, only to be thwarted at the last minute by his hand grasping her wrist. Looking up in confusion as she clacked her chopsticks questioningly she asked, "Kaito?"

His eyes gleamed with excitement. "We need to celebrate, Aoko! Breakfast and dinner on me. Let's clean up and get going!" He immediately began stacking up the barely-used dishes, setting them in the sink. The eggs and toast were covered in wrap and stored in the refrigerator before Aoko had a chance to protest.

"K-Kaito!" she objected, but he was already on the phone, making a reservation for dinner.

He grinned at her as he ended his call. "Dinner tonight at Hamadaya; our reservation for three is at seven-thirty. And before you ask, the third person is supposed to be Hakuba," he added with the slightest grimace.

Aoko felt herself tear up. She had no idea what kind of strings Kaito had just pulled to reserve a spot that evening at one of the scattered three-star Michelin-rated restaurants in Tokyo considering restaurants like those were usually booked months—if not years—in advance, but the fact that he had willingly invited her husband spoke louder to her than the choice of venue for dinner. She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he let out a strangled and surprised, "Aoko!" She kissed him soundly on the cheek before letting go, her eyes communicating more than words could do justice to him how happy and proud she was at his concerted effort to celebrate this special occasion with herself and Saguru as a pair. She hugged him again, and he returned it wholeheartedly. "Thank you so much," she said, her words muffled by his shirt, but he nonetheless heard them.

"It's nothing. You're worth it," he replied before leading her out for a meal with just the two of them.

* * *

Kaito sighed as he collapsed on the couch. Dinner had gone better than he had expected. He had valiantly refrained from prodding the half-British detective too much, and in return Hakuba had abstained from accusing him of being Kaitou KID. Aoko had been almost deliriously happy with how well the two of them had behaved. Now, stuffed with amazing food and 152,000 円 poorer, he finally had time to reflect on the day.

Breakfast had consisted of a patisserie whereupon he had treated Aoko to various pastries, quiches, and coffee, followed by an impromptu window shopping session in which they argued over the color of the baby blankets and clothing—Kaito preferred blue regardless of the gender while Aoko favored blue for a boy and green for a girl. They looked at crib designs, toys, bottles, and even diapers. The pair parted after lunch and another couple hours of window shopping, upon which Kaito returned home only to receive a call from his mother that somehow managed to eat away the rest of his afternoon. When the shadows began to grow long he bid his mother farewell and mentally prepped himself for another encounter with Hakuba.

Loosening his tie, he opened the topmost button of his shirt as he absently stared at the ceiling. He was thrilled for Aoko and Hakuba, he truly was. But his happiness was tainted with envy because he wanted what they had and yet he knew he never could, not when he still had to find and destroy Pandora, and he felt ashamed of himself. The Black Organization had been taken down with the help of Edogawa Conan—or rather, Kudou Shinichi in child-form, and Hattori Heiji, the up–and-coming detective from Osaka. Between the three of them they had gathered enough clues and evidence to bring the full force of the ICPO, FBI, CIA, and MI6 to bear, including a select number of PSIA and TMPDPSB members. Kaito had mostly remained in the background during the planning phase of the whole operation, only adding input when he spotted more out of the box options to better handle particular situations. It had certainly been a learning experience, watching the people on the right side of the law plan a major sting operation. That they had called a temporary truce with him in order to deal with a much more dangerous threat had helped ease his anxiety by a little, since he _was_ wanted by every agency represented at their planning sessions.

The execution of their plan had been swift, meticulous, and merciless. It was a well-known fact that Kaitou KID did not cause harm to anyone—minus their ego, perhaps. But just this once, Kaito had aimed his card gun with the intent of incapacitating his opponents. His jaw had ached for days afterward from clenching his teeth as card after card had sliced cleanly through tendons and tissue, leaving behind crimson splashes, pained hisses, and broken bodies. He still had nightmares of that night, where in his dreams he had not only debilitated, but he had killed.

He blinked, and the memories receded into the dark recesses of his mind. He glanced at the clock in the kitchen. Its hands indicated it was one forty-two in the morning. With a sigh he got up, heading for a shower and then bed. Yet even as he rolled under the covers his mind was still busily churning, though now his thoughts had wandered off to the two detectives who had helped bring his father's murderer to justice. To date he still puzzled over the fact that neither detective, though in particular the Great Detective of the East, had not bothered to turn him in after the Black Organization's downfall, considering how he knew the both of them resided within the Tokyo metropolis. Kaito knew he had spent enough time around Kudou, despite being disguised as KID, for the detective to have come to some conclusions as to his true identity. His fervent desire to bring down Snake and his associates was too large of a clue to miss—it was not difficult to deduce that the current Kaitou KID was the son of the first, not after he had straight up told him. However, he had kept the truth of Pandora from the detective. There was no need to send Kudou haring after what could be a nonexistent gem. Kaito rolled over and eventually nodded off, his sleep a fitful mélange of regrets from his past and his pessimistic outlook on his future.

Morning arrived sooner than he would have liked. He crawled out of bed at a respectable 06:34, noting the dark bruises under eyes set in a face with a wan complexion in the mirror as he began to clean himself up for the day. A few dabs of concealer and he looked as though he had actually slept for more than two hours. He made a mental note to buy more seed for his doves as he fed them and changed out their water. Checking to ensure he had all the equipment he needed for work, he stepped out onto the streets, making a quick stop at a small pet store before sinking into a chair at a small café. He ordered himself a bowl of rice with sides of tamagoyaki, miso soup, natto, and green tea, studiously avoiding the grilled or broiled slimy-scaly-creature option for breakfast. As he waited for his meal, he flipped through the morning news on his tablet. A serial murder case in nearby Toyotamakami from two days ago scrolled past his fingertip, the deaths linked to two other cases in Minamicho and Koishikawa.

The door opened to admit another customer, who was greeted courteously with a gentle, "Welcome!" The customer was led to another table behind him. Kaito kept a constant peripheral awareness of people and objects at all times. It was imperative he knew what his situation was at any given time, considering his nighttime occupation, and now it was simply habit. His idle browsing stalled as his ears picked up the voice of the man behind him. He recognized it immediately, though just to be sure Kaito discretely peered behind himself with a small mirror. _Meitantei,_ he thought, _what brings you to Ekoda?_ Then his eyes narrowed in closer observation as he recalled the Toyotamakami murder case, _Have you slept at all last night?_

The detective—who also worked for Division One of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police under Inspector Satou immediately after graduation from Touto University—definitely looked worse for the wear. More like death warmed over, actually. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was as unkempt his own naturally was, and his clothes were wrinkled and creased. He slouched in his seat as he waited for his coffee, looking more than ready to take a nap right there on the table. Kaito hid the mirror as his tea was brought to him, shortly followed by his meal. Before his server left, he told her to put the detective's coffee on his tab and to order him a bowl of okayu as well. No, no need to tell him who paid for his breakfast. Feeling slightly better now that he knew the overworked man would have something more substantial than just caffeine for breakfast, he muttered, "I gratefully receive," quickly tucked into his meal, paid, and left, intent on making it early to work.

It was easy to weave his way through the morning commuter foot traffic that flooded the sidewalks—peripheral awareness notwithstanding, it was nothing compared to the Task Force running pell-mell at him in all directions trying to dog pile him, after all—and so his attention was mostly focused elsewhere when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Kaito instinctively twisted out of the grip and pressed his back against the adjacent building, barely managing to restrain himself from reflexively dropping a smoke bomb in surprise. Startling thieves, even gentlemen thieves, was generally a very bad idea for one's health. That and it would not do to cause unnecessary panic in downtown Tokyo.

The thief blinked as he stared at his pursuant, who turned out to be none other than his favorite critic. Donning a confused expression he asked, "May I help you sir?" So much for getting to work early.

The detective, having scooted his way out of the main path of traffic, simply grinned and said, "Thanks." When he received nothing but a continued perplexed stare he expounded, "For the meal."

"Ah—it was nothing!" Kaito replied while holding his hands up and waving them before him, dumbfounded that the man had chased him out on the streets just to thank him. He reached a hand up to scratch the nape of his neck, as though embarrassed while a kind smile curved his lips. "You looked like you needed it." There was a pause as actually took a good look at the detective before blurting, "Why do you look like me?" Of course Kaito knew who the man was, but in his civilian persona, he had never met the famous detective and so had to keep up pretenses.

Kudou barked a laugh. "That bad, huh?" he murmured half to himself, ruffling his hair even more before folding his arms across his chest. "Well, I guess nothing really gets past you…" His eyes sharpened on Kaito's features as he finished, "Ne, Kaitou KID-san?" with a razor-edged smirk.

Kaito could swear that he felt his heart leap up into his throat. But years upon years of Poker Face mastery kept him from outwardly acknowledging his shock. He chuckled easily, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think you have the wrong person," he said sheepishly, inching slowly away from the detective. He made a casual show of glancing at his watch, gasping at the time. "Ah! I'm going to be late!" he yelped. "Excuse me!" and so saying, Kaito hurried off, burying himself in the throng of commuters.

He barely caught the habitual response of, "Take care then."

Kaito spent the rest of his day with his mind partially pondering the detective's peculiar behavior as he went about his work. His current project was an upgrade to the Singapore Museum of Natural History security system, where construction of the upgraded security system was nearly completely installed. The museum, in the next month, was going to exhibit a collection of gems and jewelry on loan from the Smithsonian Institute, among the jewels the Star of Zanzibar. The 118-karat rectangular cushion-cut gem was a beautiful tanzanite that possessed the rich blue, burgundy, and violet pleochroism characteristic of the stone. It was a possible Pandora candidate; the tanzanite had passed many hands oftentimes through violent and bloody methods. Kaito sighed mentally. Would this jewel finally be the one? He dearly hoped so. In five weeks' time he would be on site, to supervise and test the completed installation of the security system of his design.

He mentally wrote, discarded, and edited his next heist riddle on the walk home, stopping at a local diner for dinner. He let himself in, depositing his laptop bag on the floor by his desk. Plopping down on the swivel chair, he gazed at the portrait of his father, Kuroba Touichi. "Oyaji," he whispered, exhaustion and wistfulness lacing his words. Turning back to his desk he leaned back in the chair, allowing his head to loll backwards while he waited for his computer to boot up. He checked the evening news before slipping through his father's portrait and into Kaitou KID's lair. The lights flooded on, and Kaito gazed longingly at the old jukebox. It had been years since the machine played automatically whenever he entered the room. He would occasionally turn the jukebox on himself just to listen to his father's voice, allowing the man's warm, mellow tones and now well-learned lessons to wash over his ears.

The evenings of the week prior to his trip to Singapore he spent cleaning and reassembling his gear and replenishing his supplies in preparation for his Singaporean heist, alone. Kaitou KID no longer had an assistant, not since three years ago with Jii Konosuke's passing. The elderly man had lost a brutally swift battle with Stage Four pancreatic cancer that had been diagnosed far too late. Kaito still mourned the man's passing, as Jii had been the only other link to his father besides his mother. In addition he had been a tremendous friend, confidant, and mentor. Kaito had been willed all of the man's worldly belongings, as Jii had no living family of his own. The Blue Parrot had thus fallen into his hands, and Kaito had kept the place running in his spare time with the Legendary Cue displayed proudly in the well-loved pool hall. Oh, the irony—Kaito still sometimes laughed at the fact that an internationally-wanted thief who could barely hold his own in a game owned a billiard hall _and_ the Legendary Cue.

With the blueprints of the museum given to him for work, it really was child's play to plan out various methods of entry and escape. The only way to liven up his heists would be with the presence of his favorite critic, but the thief had his doubts that Kudou would travel overseas to Singapore just for a KID heist.

* * *

The riddle had been sent, and the Kaitou KID Task Force had already flown in and was setting up preparations for the night's heist in conjunction with the aid of the local police. Kaito watched the preparations from his place in the security room alongside the two museum security guards. For this particular heist, he would have to dose himself with his own knockout gas after he escaped as KID, since he preferred to keep his actual job as a security developer and tester. As midnight crept closer, he felt the tingle of adrenaline begin to course through him. Since he had seen neither hide nor hair of Kudou, Kaito was fairly sure the detective would not make an appearance to this heist. Tonight's heist, though simple in execution, needed to be timed exactly. A second too late and he would be trapped in the security system of his own design with no alibi. He knew the ins and outs of the security—of course he did—but anything unexpected would force him to think on his feet instead of executing as planned. He almost wished that Kudou would show, even though the addition of the detective meant it was almost a certainty that he would be caught. As the clock in the security room counted down the seconds, the thief scooted to the back of the room.

_Thirty._

He ensured the door to the security room was locked. The gas was deployed in small marbles, releasing the pink smoke two seconds after impact with the floor.

_Twenty-nine._

He slid a gas mask over his face, switching easily out of his daytime work attire of pressed three-piece suit and tie.

_Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven._

The gas flooded the room and he laid the sleeping guards on the floor and bound them, where they would be in no danger of falling out of their chairs.

_Twenty-six._

He rerouted all audio communication in and out of the security booth to his own headset.

_Twenty-five._

Checking his gear, he slid his top hat on, waiting until he was out of the room before he took of the mask and replaced it with his trademark monocle.

_Twenty-four._

The security room was empty save the bodies of the two slumbering guards. Kaito vaulted easily into a ventilation shaft from the security room, knowing he had exactly twenty seconds to reach the main exhibition hall. Four seconds to spare, and he eased himself out of the vent onto one of the steel I-beams that crisscrossed the glass-top ceiling. A pre-loosened glass panel would cover his "escape", along with a dummy on a glider.

_Four._

He secured a thin, nearly invisible wire to a belt beneath his jacket, tugging the pulley system he attached to the beam to double check.

_Three._

The lights in the entire museum cut out, right on schedule. He dropped a flash bomb and a smoke bomb in quick succession and waited a breath before following down to the ground in the darkness, flipping his sunglasses on and twisting and distorting his downward path as he fell. He knew exactly where the lasers were despite not being able to see them, and even with his flapping cape he made it through the maze of invisible beams.

_Two._

He felt the pulley begin to slow his descent as Inspector Nakamori snapped why the backup generators had not kicked in yet in the darkness.

_One._

The two bombs detonated, temporarily shorting the optic nerves of anyone who had their eyes open just as he landed to the side of the case.

_Showtime._

Within five seconds he had swapped the indigo gem for a square note containing just his signature doodle, and had replaced the glass case as the flare faded away. He yanked his sunglasses off and took a moment to admire the stone in the dying artificial light before stowing it securely in an inner pocket. The Task Force members were blinking watering eyes, trying to recover from their passing blindness.

Part One: goad the Task Force into a frenzy. The strobes that were meant to highlight the display case blinked on per his preprogramming, revealing Kaitou KID as he stood upright on the case, cape fluttering gently behind him and brim of his top hat tilted to cover the upper half of his face. "Miss me?" he asked with a teasing tone as he stepped back off the display into the one spot just large enough for him to stand straight in without setting off the alarms.

"KAITOU KID!" roared the inspector, "GET HIM!"

KID jumped just as the front line of Task Force members lunged for him, easily flipping over the pile of bodies while dodging the laser beams. The Task Force, despite having prior knowledge of the laser labyrinth, set the alarms off anyway. Steel doors slammed down from the doorways—each one ten centimeters in thickness and completely isolating them from the rest of the museum. The other part of the security involved the steel beams near the ceiling rearranging themselves from something that appeared to be there for both structural integrity and artistic design into a tightly-gridded cage under the ceiling. "Lovely footwork, Keibu!" he sang, watching as Nakamori squirmed and pulled his way from under the pile, red-faced and scowling.

Time for Part Two: the merry goose chase. Turning on the balls of his feet, he sprinted out into the vast arena of the still dark exhibition hall, heels clicking and laughter echoing in the enormous chamber as the thunder of the Task Force followed him as he wove his way between displays. The moonlight from the ceiling illuminated his white form, and the Task Force members could not help but feel as though they were chasing a ghost—figuratively speaking, though literally might just as well apply. As the doors were already activated, he no longer cared about the lasers.

Sixteen seconds into the chase and commence Part Three: the logic-defying escape. He threw a smoke bomb down, instantly covering himself with a black cloak as he pressed the release button on the pulley wire attachment. He barely held in a strangled, "Grk!" as the wire wrenched abruptly on his belt, yanking him off his feet and reeling him up into the air towards the ceiling. Three seconds.

The beams took thirty seconds to reconfigure themselves once the alarm had been set off. KID landed on the rotating beam and detached his pulley, stashing his black cloak and "reappearing" in a blast of smoke. Ten seconds before the cage completed itself he pulled the Star of Zanzibar from his pocket and viewed it in the full moon's light, barely keeping himself from tripping when his eyes traced the outline of a secondary gem within the tanzanite that refracted an undeniable crimson instead of the expected cooler shades. _I—I've got it… I've finally found Pandora…_ Shaking himself he pocketed it, attempting to calm his now racing heart. Five seconds before the cage completed, he slid the glass panel aside as though to escape. "Well then…" he said with a jaunty grin, and with another smoke bomb launched the dummy attached to the glider and disappeared into the ventilation shaft.

He landed in the security room with his gas mask on. The air was still misty from his opening salvo. He swapped out of his KID outfit and stashed it under the false bottom of his laptop bag, finally taking the gas mask off. He held his breath as he tied himself up and lay down with the other guards before exhaling, inhaling deeply, and drifting into unconsciousness.

Of course, Kaito was obligated to kick up a fuss at the fact that KID had managed to slip through his security design when he came to. He had huffed, snapped, and snarled as was appropriate before he was told by the police to pack his bags and head home, which he did with unmasked fervor. His jobs in Singapore—both official and unofficial—were done. He arrived home exhausted, having been too much of a jumble of emotion to sleep on the plane. There was happiness—oh yes, there was definitely giddiness—but there was also a sense of accomplishment, relief, wistfulness, regret, and nostalgia, along with too many others to name. He shucked his clothes and headed straight for the shower, rinsing off the unclean feel that traveling always gave him. Despite the fact that it was just past three in the afternoon, Kaito burrowed himself under his bedcovers to sleep.

He woke up hours later. His bedside clock glowed 22:48 in the darkness, and he yawned and stretched. His eyes fell on his duffle, where inside the clothing lay the carefully concealed Pandora. He got out of bed and rummaged through it to find his socks. Peeling away two pairs, he squeezed the tanzanite from its hiding place in one sock, the gem heavy and cool in his palm. The full moon had been last night and so he would not be able to confirm it truly was Pandora for another month, but he believed what he had seen last night. He would wait until the next full moon for confirmation before he destroyed the gem. He stashed it safely in the KID workroom before ambling into the kitchen. Finding nothing that was really considered palatable, he grabbed his wallet, threw on a jacket, and headed out for Shibuya in search of a decent meal at this hour of the night.

Sitting on the train, he considered exactly what his plans were now. The Black Organization was gone. Pandora was his. His father's ghost could finally be put to rest. Kaitou KID could retire. The idea that his days of thieving were over was both relieving and terrifying. He could be just another average Japanese citizen. He could breathe easy knowing that he would not have a need to tangle with the enforcers of the law. He would not have to lie to anyone about his evening plans because he had no more heists to plan. He would never need to put on Kaitou KID's white suit and cape any more.

And that was the root of his disquiet. Kaitou KID had been a part of his life for so long, had become an integral part of who he was, that without it he felt oddly bereft and exposed. He knew logically that now, he was free to pursue a girlfriend, join new social circles, to get on with his life. He also understood that it would take time for him to break the habits that had kept him from being behind bars. There was no need for him to manipulate people, not any longer.

Alighting from the train, he exited Shibuya Station, craving noodles. Ichiran caught his eye and he entered, ordering a bowl of Hakata ramen and seated himself inside one of the secluded booths, relishing the comparative quiet. He leaned his head back against the wall, staring contemplatively at the ceiling until his meal came. He ate with gusto before paying and leaving the restaurant, wandering aimlessly in the throng of clubbers and bar hoppers.

_Where to now? _he thought, feeling like a ship that had lost its bearing in the dark, wide ocean with no stars to guide the way.

* * *

Author's Note: So… this turned out to be one monster of a twoshot—I hadn't expected it to grow as long as it had, though I had been aiming for a more introspective look into Kaito's thoughts after his final heist and the initiation of a genuine friendship with Shinichi. It's all sorts of angsty, and while that was my intention I actually did not mean for it to become as heavy as it did. That and it is not a particularly fast-paced story. So my apologies in that regard, but there was too much background information that needed to be mentioned _somewhere_. The degrees listed are actual degrees offered by Tokyo University—just so you know I'm not making them up. The yen symbol (円) I used here is what the Japanese use locally; this symbol (¥) is what is used internationally to denote the yen. And 152,000 円 translates to roughly $1,270 US. I hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

Completed: 06.04.2015


	2. II: Reconstruction

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

* * *

Undefeated

By Taliya

* * *

II: Reconstruction

* * *

Days turned to weeks that passed in a monotonous blur as Kaito steadily slid further into depression. He established a routine that he rarely deviated from: wake up, feed his birds, eat, go to work, return, make dinner, pass the evening hours without any sort of actual remembrance, shower, sleep, repeat. He seldom stepped foot outside his house unless it was necessary, otherwise he absently shuffled decks of cards and or juggled scarves and colored balls. Despite his Poker Face his coworkers were worried by his increasingly listless behavior but were helpless to snap him out of it, unable to do anything as they watched their normally exuberant colleague grow paler and thinner with each passing day.

As the night of the full moon neared, Kaito's attention perked up, eager to see if this had truly been his final heist target. The jewel did indeed refract light the color of fresh blood amidst the undulating blues, violets, and burgundy, and Kaito had swiftly taken a hammer to it with manic satisfaction thrumming in his heart. The shards were interesting to look at. The various splinters were either the cool-warm rainbow of the tanzanite or transparent with a cycling undertone of the visible spectrum. Kaito idly wondered as he swept the remains into a pile how Pandora had ended up inside another gem. He followed up by melting the shards in a crucible with a welding torch. The resultant amorphous bluish-black glob looked nothing like the prized Star of Zanzibar, nor did it refract red in the moonlight—it actually barely passed any light through it at all. The melting had destroyed the magical properties of Pandora as well as the crystalline structure of the tanzanite. Kaito boxed up the remains and stowed it at the foot of the pop-up closet that housed Kaitou KID's outfit. He reached out, expression full of nostalgia as he fingered the silk of the pristine whiteness of the cape one last time.

His father's legacy, and now, his. He absently wondered how his mother had felt when she had hung up Phantom Lady's costume forever. Had it been as bittersweet as he wished it could have felt instead of resentful? Or had it been simply a relief? His mother was not here, and for once he keenly yearned for her presence—it would have been nice to have an anchor in the chaos that comprised his thoughts and emotions, as well as some advice. He had expected to feel elated with the destruction of Pandora, but all he felt was a curiously detached and deadened sensation considering that on the heels of Pandora's destruction was KID's demise. He knew psychologically that he was in mourning, though it was over a person who never existed, a ghost as intangible as his name, Kaitou KID.

He woodenly penned a last note to Inspector Nakamori, informing him of his immediate retirement and thanking him for years upon years of entertainment with best wishes in his future endeavors. The note was signed with KID's signature doodle and slipped into his pocket for delivery in the evening after next. Climbing the spiral staircase one last time, the former thief gazed upon the workroom that he had spent so many hours in—the work benches, the turntable, the car, the checker-tiled floor that hid the flamboyant, distinguishing attire of Kaitou KID. He committed the room as it was to memory before shutting off the lights and locking the exit behind him. He tossed and turned the entire night, unable to sleep before giving it up as a bad job when his clock read four in the morning. Sending a quick message to inform his mother of the latest developments regarding KID, he sighed as he shut his laptop. Might as well make that delivery to the police department. It would be Inspector Nakamori's tidy little wake up and parting gift.

The note made the front page that morning, and the public was in an uproar over the announcement of Kaitou KID's retirement. KID fans were distraught, while supporters of the law rejoiced. The Task Force members themselves were of mixed opinions. While they were pleased there would be no more humiliating defeats at the clever hands of KID, it also meant their unit would be disbanded and they would be dispersed among the other departments. The KID Task Force members were overall a pleased bunch, having derived a large amount of after-the-fact enjoyment from their quarry over the years due to the knowledge that Kaitou KID was completely nonviolent despite his hijinks, the same of which could not be said for any of the other divisions. Nakamori was inconsolable. He had alternately ranted, raged, and wailed, his multiple diatribes liberally littered with epithets strong enough to make paint peel.

Aoko had called Kaito after seeing the headline, expressing her delight at the thief's retirement while wondering worriedly what the event would mean for her father. Kaito promised to check up on her father for her when they were both done with work that evening. He then spent the rest of the day at his desk listening to his coworkers' gossip on reasons why Kaitou KID had gone to ground for good, as well as wondering what Hakuba's thoughts were on KID's final disappearing trick. Some of his colleagues' ideas were fairly reasonable explanations while others were flat out outrageous, and he chuckled as his listened, even going so far as to offer his own false suggestions. After work, in which he was held up by a few hours and therefore running late, he immediately stopped by the Nakamori home to find Hakuba and Aoko trying to get a completely plastered Ginzo to bed. A quick glance at his watch told him it was only eight thirty-five. He retreated to the kitchen to cook a few dishes for dinner with extras to be left for the policeman—the man was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, without doubt. While Aoko fussed over her father, Hakuba stood behind him watching and the thief's shoulders itched with the detective's staring.

"What _is_ it, Hakuba?" he asked testily, dicing a block of tofu for miso soup after blanching the soba noodles and setting a few dried shitake mushrooms to soak. He was in no mood to entertain the blond with his suspicions, not when he was still sorting himself out.

"You're quitting, Kuroba?" he asked, though it came out more like a statement.

Kaito scowled. "If you're going to do nothing but give me the third degree, at least make yourself useful and chop those up for yakisoba," he said, pointing with his knife to the pile of washed cabbage, onions, carrots, mushrooms, and green onions.

"Well?" Hakuba pressed as he steadily made his way through the vegetables while Kaito cut a piece of pork into thin strips.

The miso soup slowly warmed on the stove, Kaito keeping an eye on it and stirring it every now and then. He sighed in exasperation as he returned to slicing up the cut of meat. "How many times do I have to tell you: I'm not KID."

Hakuba paused in his work to scrutinize the magician. "You're upset that KID's retiring, and not in the way a KID fan would react. It's more personal to you, isn't it?" he said, eyes narrowing with his suspicion.

"Knock it off, Hakuba," Kaito retorted crabbily, "Work's been busier than usual and I'm just tired." He had by now begun sautéing the pork in oil, soon adding the neatly chopped vegetables into the wok. The noodles came soon after, as did the yakisoba sauce, salt, and pepper as Kaito dodged increasingly pointed questions posed by the detective. "Get the miso soup off the stove before it boils over and add in the green onion and wakame, will you Hakuba?"

Hakuba wanted to grill the man more, but held his tongue as Aoko entered the kitchen and blinked, surprised to find the two of them once again behaving as they prepared the late dinner. They served themselves and ate, wrapping the extras and stashing them in the refrigerator for the distraught inspector and washing the dishes, cookware, and utensils.

After the last plate had been dried and put away, Kaito stretched his back out. "I'm going home," he announced, smothering a yawn. "See you two later." He saw himself out before Hakuba could throw more questions at him or Aoko could ask after his health and shuffled to his own house, letting himself in and allowing his workbag to slide off his shoulder and onto the armchair in the living room. He thanked whatever deity it was that kept Hakuba from grilling him for the whole of the evening—it probably had been Aoko's presence. Either that or he had truly looked as dead on his feet as he felt, and what do you know, maybe Hakuba did have a heart buried somewhere in there.

Having showered and dressed for bed, Kaito flopped on top of his covers, eyes gazing sightlessly at the ceiling. Pandora had finally been destroyed, and so… now what? His mind wandered aimlessly in various directions, trying and failing to determine the course his life should go before a ring of the doorbell interrupted his vacant ruminations. Kaito blinked, eyes darting to the clock on his nightstand. The digital readout read 23:39. He was not expecting anyone this late, and it was a weekday to boot. If anything he expected it to be Hakuba, the stubborn idiot. Thank heavens he did not require much in the way of sleep—he would have never been able to function properly during the day with his former night job otherwise. But even so, getting anywhere between thirty minutes to two hours of sleep a night was doing him no favors. Hauling himself up, he padded down the stairs and to the door, yanking it open irritably without checking to see who it was. "What _now_, Haku—" His voice trailed off at the sight of the Great Detective of the East on his doorstep.

The man tilted his head with a small grin. "Good evening," he greeted. "Expecting someone else?"

"Ah—no," Kaito replied weakly, "Good evening." What was the detective doing _here_ at this hour of night? And dear gods in heaven, what had he done to deserve _this_? "Ne, you're the guy I bought breakfast for, right?" he asked dumbly as he urged his brain to wake up from its surprised stupor.

"Don't play the idiot; it doesn't suit you." The detective smirked, the cocksure attitude he was known for before he had been shrunk into Conan shining through briefly. "Kudou Shinichi, detective—or, I guess it's inspector now," he said, formally introducing himself. Kaito mentally raised his brows. He had no idea that the detective had been promoted so quickly through the police ranks. "Is this a good time to speak to you? Or should I come back at a better time?" Kudou asked.

Really, it was the very last thing he needed at the moment, inviting Kudou Shinichi into his home when he was working himself through an identity crisis and associated depression. Yet knowing that his inquiry was likely to involve KID, Kaito mentally shored up his worn Poker Face. _Oh, joy._ Kudou could sometimes be as stubborn as Hakuba whenever something sparked his interest, and it seemed Kaito was the lucky—or perhaps unlucky—recipient. "No," he shook his head and stepped back, "Now's fine." Opening the door further he said, "Please enter."

The private investigator-turned-police inspector swept past him, pausing in the genkan to remove his shoes as he murmured, "Excuse my intrusion." Kaito wordlessly offered a pair of slippers before leading the man into the living room. Kudou settled on the couch, while Kaito occupied the not-as-comfortable armchair across the coffee table. "May I offer something to drink? Tea, coffee, water?" he asked, playing the accommodating host, though it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

"Coffee please, if it's not too much of an inconvenience," he replied, and Kaito left to brew the drink for his guest. He returned with the requested coffee and jasmine tea for himself along with milk and sugar to find Kudou wandering about the room, inspecting the photographs and other memorabilia from his civilian past. He set the drinks down on the table and reclaimed his seat, watching as the detective did the same.

They sat silently for several moments, sipping their chosen beverages before Kudou broke the silence. "You look terrible," he stated baldly.

Kaito huffed sardonically. "Did you come here just to tell me that? I'm well aware of what I look like in the mirror, thanks." He paused before continuing, "May I ask why you are here? Is something wrong?" Might as well play the ignorance card as long as possible.

The inspector set his mug on the table, leaning back easily into the couch. "Kuroba Kaito," he said with a serious countenance before a sly grin curved his lips, "or should I say Kaitou KID?"

Kaito knew he could fool Kudou if he truly wanted to—a few lies here, an alibi there, and he could slide relatively undetected off the radar as he had so many times before. But he had decided he would try not to manipulate and lie any longer even though it was practically second nature to him—he was no longer KID, after all—and of all the people he knew, Kudou deserved to know the truth. The man opposite him _had_ helped him to jail his father's murderers, after all, and they had partnered up more often than they should have considering who they were. And so he chuckled sardonically as he stated without humor, "Guilty as charged." Despite himself a ghost of KID's cheeky grin peeked on his lips. "Though I will have to admit you won't be able to convict me without proper evidence—I would know, as Hakuba's tried many times before."

"Hakuba Saguru?" The Great Detective of the East laughed. "Relax, Kuroba-san, I am not here to arrest you. I just have a few questions for you that, to be frank, are more to sate my curiosity than anything else."

Kaito's grin widened. "Then you'll permit me a few questions of my own?" he shot back, and Kudou nodded obligingly, the two of the easily settling into the comfortable banter that characterized their relationship as detective and thief even though Kaito's heart was not in it.

"So did you find what you were looking for?" Kudou asked, watching the retired thief carefully. "I noticed this was the one gem you haven't yet returned."

Kaito eased back into his own chair, his mien now solemn, without a trace of his usual happy-go-lucky temperament. No more lies. "It's gone for good." When Kudou's brows puckered in a frown, he asked flippantly, "Have you heard of a gem called 'Pandora'?"

Curiosity piqued by the apparent non sequitur, the detective leaned forward. "I've heard rumors of it," he said slowly, "a gem that grants immortality…" Eyes widened in realization. "You don't mean—you found it?"

The phantom thief nodded, eyes haunted and dark. "And I've destroyed it."

Kudou appeared to choke on his tongue before he managed, "Why?" Kaito waited, knowing that the detective had not finished asking his question. "Why did you destroy an artifact that so many people would kill to have?"

"Because my father was murdered because of it," he said bluntly with a grim tone and equally dark expression. "The Black Organization, as you well know, had various branches, each with their own system of codenames. The branch you were after dealt in chemicals and pharmaceuticals and were identified by alcohols—like _Sherry_." Kaito noticed the detective's eyes sharpened almost dangerously as he dangled Haibara's Organization alias before him. "The Organization had Pandora, once upon a time. It was a key ingredient of several different poisons, including Apoptoxin 4869. But then someone within the Organization stole it, and died escaping. The gem was never recovered, and therefore they tried recruiting Kaitou KID to find it for them. Obviously that didn't pan out. The branch I was after dealt in the thieving and counterfeit production of priceless objects, and they were in charge of recovering Pandora. They named themselves after various animals."

"Snake," Kudou automatically replied thoughtfully, repeating the name that KID had mentioned several times before during the planning of their sting operation.

"Yes," Kaito exhaled, "Snake was my father's murderer." Saying it aloud, vocalizing the fact had a sort of finality to it that Kaito had not recognized until just now. And suddenly, the idea that his father had been avenged, that Pandora was no more, that _KID_ was no more, pierced him more sharply than he had ever expected. He swallowed thickly, knowing that the inspector across from him was watching him intently. The knowledge gripped his heart, squeezed it until he felt breathless with its leaden hold. It was all he could do to keep his face blank; he could feel his Poker Face was beginning to rapidly fray at the edges. _Not now!_ he pleaded, _Not in front of Kudou!_

The inspector tilted his chin down, his hair shielding the upper half of his face. "I see." There was a long pause before he lifted his head to gaze at his arch rival, compassion and sympathy in his eyes. "I know it's very late and will probably mean nothing to you now, but I'm so very sorry for your loss." Kaito found he could not hold the other man's gaze and dropped it, clenching his jaw as he rigidly controlled his breathing. "And," the detective continued earnestly, "I'm honored that you allowed me to help you capture them."

Kaito picked up his cup to give his trembling hands something to do, staring into the honeyed hue of the tea. "Truthfully I knew I would never be able to take them out on my own, which was the main reason why I allied myself with you. As Kaitou KID I could only hope to draw them out of whatever hidey-holes they had burrowed into."

"So you were using yourself as _bait_?" There was incredulity and the beginnings of fury laced in Kudou's voice. "Are you _crazy_?"

Kaito smirked mirthlessly over the wisps of steam rising from his mug. "So I've been told multiple times," he replied nonchalantly with a shrug. "It worked, didn't it?"

"But—but you could have been _killed_!" The detective was glaring at him now, though there was a hint of pain in those eyes. "If you had _died_, I don't know how I would have—" He trailed off, too horrified by the revelation to continue.

"—you would still be in the body of a now fifteen-year-old Tantei-kun known as Edogawa Conan, no?" Kaito finished, and the detective stared at him in frozen shock.

"How did you find out?" he whispered, derailed from his previous train of thought.

The retired thief snickered at the detective's gobsmacked expression. "Give me a little credit, Meitantei," he chided, "I might not be a detective like you, but once I had all the pieces of the puzzle it was astoundingly easy to deduce—which, I'm sure, is how you found me, no?" He slanted a crafty look at the now-fidgeting inspector. "You honestly didn't think that I wouldn't connect your reappearance and Tantei-kun's disappearance with all the secretive non-reasons Tantei-kun gave me for stealing APTX 4869 from the Organization, did you?"

The detective clicked his tongue agitatedly. "How you found out does matter. Not anymore." His eyes flashed furiously as he stared at the retired criminal. "What _does_ matter," he murmured, anger transforming his words into crisp, sharp bullets, "is why you _purposely_ made yourself a target!"

The phantom thief's temper flared in response, though he tamped down on it immediately. "And who could I have turned to for help?" he asked, sarcasm oozing from his voice. "The _police_?" He laughed, and it was not a pleasant laugh. _Phantom thieves work best alone—cannot learn to rely completely on anyone._ His Poker Face was coming apart larger pieces, and he vaguely realized that his bottling everything up had been—currently was—his undoing. "Like they would have helped a thief!" There was undeniable bitterness in his voice.

"You could have asked me," Kudou said quietly with a plea in his voice, even though he understood where the other man was coming from.

Kaito stared at his favorite critic, the grin sliding off his face. "I did come to you in the end, did I not?" _Only because I had no other recourse, and realistically it was only a matter of time before my luck would fail me and I'd die by their hands._

"But you could have asked earlier!" the inspector fired back, frustration infiltrating his tone. "You _knew_ I would be fair and help! I even save the lives of would-be murderers, not to mention _actual_ murderers! So _why didn't you_?"

"Because you had your own problems to deal with!" Kaito crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing as he struggled to maintain his rapidly unraveling calm. Years of essentially working alone had imbued in the thief a strong sense of independence and isolation, of understanding that there was no one who could be fully relied upon despite any and all insistence. Jii's untimely death had brutally brought that lesson home. Steering his attention forcefully away from that topic, another thought flitted across his mind and the corner of his lips tilted upwards as he snickered. "You know, for having a famous actress for a mother, your acting skills _suck_."

The detective was temporarily wrong-footed by the change in subject before he drew himself up indignantly. "Of course they did! I never had to act for a living, nor did I have to act to keep myself _out of jail_!"

Kaito's expression immediate grew shuttered even though the smirk remained on his lips. "Oh yes, and it must have been so _wonderful_ to not have to wear a mask every second of your life." The words, though spoken softly, were dangerously barbed and dripped with venom.

Kudou hastily backpedaled, unsure of what sort of emotional landmine he had inadvertently trod upon even as resentment colored his tone. "I do too know what that is like, despite being horrible at it," he said warningly. The phantom thief laughed in response, but this time it was borderline hysterical, and the detective's eyes widened with unease. "K-Kuroba-san…?"

The phantom thief stilled, his frame all but vibrating with tension, his breath coming too quickly and his pulse racing. He felt lightheaded and slightly nauseous and instantly realized he was having a panic attack. He could not—_could not_—have a combination panic attack and nervous breakdown in front of Kudou. _Hold it together!_ he berated himself even as his Poker Face finally crumbled into so much dust. The depression, the stress, the lack of a goal to work towards, the lack of sleep, the relief of it being all over, had all taken a toll on his mind, and the detective's prodding had been the last straw. "Pardon me," he whispered out of habit before he dropped a smoke bomb and fled up the stairs to his room—to KID's room.

"Kuroba!" the detective called, coughing, but Kaito no longer cared what the other man did as he flew up the stairs. All he had felt was the urge to get away, to hide his weaknesses. He had instinctively locked the door to his bedroom and snapped the curtains shut before he realized his fingers were working on unlocking the rotating portrait of his father that led to KID's workroom. He paused, wishing he had a paper bag handy to breathe into. The halo of white around the edges of his vision, the hyper-vibrant colors of the objects in his room, the dizziness indicated he was hyperventilating. He clasped his hands over his nose and mouth, forming as much of a sealed pocket of air as his fingers would allow, and forcefully slowed his breathing.

The brightness of his sight dimmed to something more normal as his pulse dropped after nearly a minute, and he heaved a shaky sigh as his hands dropped away from his face. A hesitant knock on the door nearly scared him out of his skin. "Kuroba-san?" Kudou's muffled voice drifted through the door. "You okay in there?"

Kaito nimbly locked the portrait door again though he longed to simply hide downstairs, drowned in the silk of Kaitou KID's mantle. All he wanted to do at this point was to kick the detective out of his house, but, well, that would be considered anything but polite—his mother would never let him hear the end of it if she ever found out. And he was tired, so very _tired_. "I'm fine," he answered without conviction.

Apparently the inspector noticed, for he rattled on the doorknob. "You aren't fine, Kuroba-san. Let me in."

Kaito sank down on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and fingers woven into his hair. "Why do you care, Meitantei?" he sighed softly to himself. "Doesn't it hurt to care too much?"

There was a heavy, long pause before another knock sounded on the door, a softer rap than the first. "Open the door, Kuroba-san. Please."

It was an entreaty. But it was also an offer.

An offer for a shoulder to cry on, a nonjudgmental ear to listen, a sounding board for reflection and advice. Kaito's eyes slid to the entrance to his room, beyond which Kudou Shinichi, the Modern-Day Holmes and savior of the police force, stood awaiting his decision. _I'm digging my own grave, Oyaji,_ he thought with gallows humor, and Kuroba Touichi's face smiled back at him as he rose and unlocked the door, opening it. The detective had his hands in his pockets, a look of undisguised worry on his face. Kaito wordlessly stepped back to allow the other man entry, and the inspector eased his way into the room, eyes curiously roving across the interior before focusing on the phantom thief beside him.

Kaito returned to his location on the bed, and Kudou wheeled the swivel chair to face him before sitting down. The thief resumed his previous position with elbows resting on his knees, head hanging between his shoulders. It was an extremely vulnerable position, exposing the back of his neck, a primordial invitation to snap his spinal column, an indisputable sign of surrender. Without otherwise moving, Kaito silently upturned and offered his wrists.

The detective blinked in consternation. "Oi, Kuroba-san, you really think I'm going to arrest you after I said I wasn't here for that?"

"What else is there left to do," Kaito breathed tonelessly, "to finally put Kaitou KID to rest except to have him caught?"

There was silence, before warm hands gently grasped his wrists, sliding and rotating to cup and support his own. "KID may be retired, but that does not mean his magic and legacy are dead."

A humorless chuckle escaped the phantom thief. "KID died with Pandora's destruction. His purpose was intricately tied with the stone." He released a shaky sigh. "I can finally relax, except I'm not sure I know how to." Kaito lifted his head, eyeing the detective through his untidy hair with an empty smirk. "That and there is a distinct possibility that I will be arrested in the near future."

The inspector seemed to grow agitated. The man's hands disappeared from clasping his own to one flying across his cheek, and Kaito was rattled vehemently as Kudou snarled, "You _idiot_! I did not spend all those years chasing you to put you behind bars! I did it because you were the one criminal I could count on who _wouldn't_ kill anyone and it was a relief! Just because you've fulfilled your mission does _not_ mean your life is over!"

Kaito, tentatively touching his cheek in shock, warily turned to watch the detective as he continued his monologue. "Do you think I don't know how you felt when we finally toppled the Black Organization? That my purpose, my _everything_ since becoming Conan was suddenly gone? Yes, I received the cure and reemerged into the world as Kudou Shinichi, but after three years everyone I knew as Shinichi had grown up and moved on while I was still mentally stuck three years in the past." He sighed, the fire in his words suddenly banked. "I drowned myself in school and work, attending your heists as a means of stress relief. Seeing you work your magic and impersonating different people really helped me because I figured if Kaitou KID somehow managed to work around having a civilian persona and a "working" persona, as well as pretending to be practically everyone else and their mother, then who was I to complain about having a single alter ego?"

Kaito gaped unabashedly at the unusually candid detective. The only thing his shell-shocked mind could think was, _Is this guy serious or just plain nuts?_ Then again, it was not like he had much room to speak in the sanity department either.

Kudou grinned sheepishly at the phantom thief. "So I feel like I should thank you," he said self-consciously, "for helping to keep me from completely falling apart, even though you never knew it. You were really one of the few constants that did not change when I reappeared as myself, and for that I will be eternally grateful. It would be poor recompense, not to mention abominable of me if I did not reciprocate." The grin transformed itself into something much more genuine. "So… do you want to talk about it…?"

* * *

Kaito had forgotten how stubborn and determined the detective could be. The clock hands pointed to six fifty-two in the morning, Kudou had yet to leave his house, and he had to get to the office in thirty minutes. The detective had nagged, pestered, and wheedled, and was an overall annoyance to the former Kaitou KID. Details about his past had come in fits and spurts, and even when the Great Detective of the East had all the basics needed to piece the story together, he continued to bother Kaito, aiming for more details that Kaito stubbornly withheld. At one point, Kudou had even tranquilized him with his modified adult-version of Edogawa Conan's dart watch, if only to force him to get some sleep. _That _had not been something he would have expected of the Modern-Day Holmes, but then again, Kudou Shinichi did not always play by the book.

_"You… you tranq'ed me!" Kaito sputtered indignantly after he had woken up from his enforced one hour nap. He was lying in his bed on top of his covers, and a fleece blanket had been tucked about him. The detective had been perched in his swivel chair at his desk, flipping through The Wall Street Journal online on a tablet. A steaming mug of coffee was situated not too far from the man's right hand._

_Kudou looked up from reading an article on the woes of the Eurozone with regards to Greece's inability to service its national debt. "Had to be done, I'm afraid," the inspector had said with a straight face, though amusement shone in his eyes. "Feel better?"_

_Ignoring the question and the jibe, Kaito demanded, "How long have I been out?" A glance at his clock indicated it was 03:19. His head dropped back on his pillow. "And_ why_ are you even still _here_?"_

_"About an hour, give or take five minutes," Kudou easily replied. "And I haven't gone poking around your house, in case you're worried. All I've done was help myself to the coffeemaker." The detective then shrugged and answered, "And I did it because you looked like crap and apparently need someone to watch over you, and I really don't care since I'm taking vacation tomorrow and can sleep later."_

_"_You_," Kaito hissed with deep irritation and he flicked the blanket to the side and sat up, "are _infuriating_."_

_Kudou smirked deviously. "I only learned from the best, after all."_

The former thief had to ruefully admit, even if it was only to himself, that he felt better—lighter—to have shared some of the secrets he carried with someone else. His mother knew exactly what he had been up against—her more intimate knowledge of what went on during Kaitou Corbeau's short stint she was in Tokyo was proof enough—but he did not want to cause her undue worry on his behalf, not when she was wrapping up scores of her own. Now, however, he had given the inspector the barest of the story and felt the other man had long outstayed his welcome.

"Kudou," he said flatly, dropping the honorific in his irritation. The aforementioned man hummed absently in response. "I need to get to work in thirty. Would you kindly mind leaving now?"

The detective had been studying the portrait of Touichi, clad in a black tuxedo with several white doves fluttering about him. He shifted his gaze towards the magician addressing him, an innocent expression of surprise on his face. "Oh? Didn't you hear? You called in sick for the day."

Kaito blinked, unsettled. "When did I do that?"

The Modern-Day Holmes held up his mobile phone with a smug grin, which he had snatched by rooting around in Kaito's work laptop bag. "Just five minutes ago, while you were using the toilet." Kaito made a swipe at his phone and missed as the detective tucked it in his back pocket. "No work today. You could use a day of rest anyhow."

"Like you're a shining example to follow," Kaito snapped as he angled to pickpocket his _own phone_ back. How illogical the idea sounded, even to himself. The detective danced around the room, keeping himself just out of arm's reach. "I—seriously—really, Kudou?" The thief swore as he missed the grinning inspector by a hair.

"Shinichi," the other man tossed out casually, interrupting Kaito and bringing the magician up short even as he continued to pursue his phone—and by default, the detective.

"Eh?" A look of puzzled suspicion crossed the man's face, and the thief wondered what exactly the inspector was up to. "That _is_ your given name, so…?"

"So use it," the detective replied calmly, and the thief halted his pursuit. At Kaito's continued stare that morphed from skepticism to incredulity, he sighed heavily in exasperation. "I think we know each other well enough to address one another by first names." Catching the magician's eyes, he asked with a knowing gaze he added, "Ne, Kaito-kun?" And so saying, tossed the man's phone back.

Kaito reflexively caught his phone, frowning thoughtfully at the detective. The inspector calmly returned his scrutiny, giving him the time he needed to look at his current situation from every possible angle. "Why are you doing this, Ku—" He cut himself off at the other man's warning stare and raised eyebrow. "Shinichi-san?" he finished. _What do you gain out of helping me?_

Shinichi considered the man for a moment before muttering under his breath, "We'll need to work on that." In a louder voice he replied, "Because somewhere along the way I've come to regard you as a friend, despite being rivals on opposite sides of the law. Because you treated me on all accounts as an equal instead of a child. Because even though you'll bend and break the rules, you value life as much as I do. Because you're fun to be around, if infuriating in the extreme. Because you are at your very core, a wonderful person I am privileged to be acquainted with."

He could not help it. Kaito flushed, feeling his cheeks heat up at the unexpected but sincere praise. He stared at the wooden slats of his floor, trying and failing for once to will away the warmth in his face.

"And, because friends help each other up when one falls." The slippers stopped at the edge of his vision, and Kaito followed the legs up to the face of the owner. Shinichi smiled at him, a warm, lopsided smile that was reassuring in its genuineness. "Kaitou KID was first and foremost my rival, but he proved to be a great friend too. So why should I not extend that friendship to the man behind the mask? Besides," here a devious smirk inched its way across the detective's lips. "You could always use those skills of yours to help the police."

Kaito gaped, and Shinichi could not help but snigger at the thief's dumbstruck look. "Okay fine, maybe not nix that idea, but definitely shelve it for later pondering." Though his expression straightened, the mirth remained in the inspector's eyes. "But in all seriousness, you won't be rid of me so easily, Kaito-kun. And I still have to pay you back for breakfast."

A smile trembled on Kaito's lips before he tilted his head back and laughed at the sheer absurdity of his last comment. "Breakfast?" he choked in between giggles.

Shinichi shook his head in amused exasperation, pleased to finally see a genuine smile on the magician's face. "Barou," he murmured fondly under his breath.

* * *

Author's Note: And… it's finally done. I'm not quite sure how in-character I was able to keep them, considering Kaito—ebullient personality that he is—probably wouldn't slide into depression and Shinichi maybe/possibly/might be bold enough to confront KID in his own house. But, it's what came out, and despite the previously mentioned I have to admit I'm pleased with the result. I have no plans for continuing this fic, so if you feel so inclined, then by all means please let me know so I can read it! Writing this was, sadly enough, not all that difficult for me to step into Kaito's frame of mind considering I had gone through a similar experience years ago. But as it was essentially written from his perspective, I did have trouble writing the piece without inserting Shinichi's thoughts into the narrative during Part II—you'll have noticed that none of Shinichi's thoughts were ever voiced—only what he spoke aloud. It was a writing experiment for me, after all. Excuse my rambling. I hope you enjoyed it.

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Completed: 11.04.2015


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